


Not My Slave

by teddyfazbear



Category: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies)
Genre: Attempted Abortion, Attempted Sexual Assault, Bathing/Washing, Cannibalism, Captivity, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, First Time, Force-Feeding, Gen, Intimate Chainsaw Handling, Kidnapping, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, Religion, Slow Burn, Stockholm Syndrome, Unplanned Pregnancy, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-01-27 12:25:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12581876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teddyfazbear/pseuds/teddyfazbear
Summary: This was a bad place to run out of gas, and even worse strangers to ask for help.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the original 1974 film with inspiration from TCM2 (MY FAVORITE). This is still a work in progress, but I wanted to at least post the first chapter in honor of Halloween!!! No sex scenes just yet, but we're getting to it. Enjoy!!

The needle had been teetering on the edge of empty for miles now and you were beginning to feel nervous.  You hadn’t passed another car in hours.  God only knows when someone would be by to help should you finally run dry.  Worse, it was getting dark.  If you didn’t find a service station soon, you would surely be stranded.  The radio signal had died out a while back, the only soundtrack to your trip was the groan of the engine and a faint whisper of prayers escaping your lips.  Your pleas to heaven grew more audible as you spotted a small speck on the horizon, hazy from the rays of the sunset behind it.

“Please God, please Lord, oh sweet Jesus please,” you were damn near chanting at this point.  Instant relief washed over you as the speck grew into the form of a building.  A small building with gas pumps. “Oh merciful God, Lord above, thank you!”

Just as the words of gratitude were uttered, your car finally gave up the ghost.  You couldn’t help but laugh at the Lord's sense of humor.  You were simply grateful he got you this far on fumes as you started walking to the building.

Even as the sun sunk lower in the Texas sky, the heat was excruciating, making what was a ten minute walk at most feel like an eternity.  By the time you reached the old shack, you were red-faced and your clothes were drenched and clinging to you like a second skin.  The door of the station swung open as you approached it.   An older man, probably in his late 40s or early 50s stepped out and was immediately startled by your presence, judging by the way his hand shot up to his heart.

“You alright, kid?  Awfully late to be sneaking around out here,” he said.  “You look ‘bout dead.  Can I get ya something to drink?”

You nodded and he handed you a Coca-Cola from a dusty vending machine.  It was lukewarm, but still refreshing considering you had nothing to drink since earlier that afternoon.

“Thank you, sir,” you said.  “Just wondering if you might have a gas can.  See my car ran out about ten minutes back that way.” You pointed back in the direction from which you walked.

The man frowned as he stuck his hands in his pockets.  “Honey, I wish I could help you out, but we’re bone dry.  Won’t be by to fill 'er up ‘til tomorrow morning.”

“And about how far is the next station?” you inquired, mentally preparing yourself to walk as far as necessary.

The man laughed.  “Well, on two legs it might take ya a couple of hours to get there.  And trust me, they’re closed by now.”

Crestfallen, you nodded in understanding. “I see.  I suppose I’ll see you in the morning, sir,” you stated as you turned back in the direction of your car.

“Whoa now, where ya going, kid?” the man called out to you.

“Back to my car, I guess,” you shrugged.  “I figure I’ll just camp out there for the night.”

“No need to do all that.  Tell ya what, I’m about to head home for the night.  Why don’t you join my family an’ me for supper?  Chances are we might have a can of gasoline laying aroun.  I can haul you back to your car after dinner.  Besides, it’s dangerous for a gal like you to be wanderin’ around alone.  No telling what kind of creeps could run up on you at dark.”

You supposed he had a point, and you certainly were hungry.  Grateful for his hospitality, you decided to take him up on his offer.  “I’d really appreciate it, sir,” you said with a smile.

“No need to call me sir.  The name’s Drayton.”

You introduced yourself as well and let him know it was a pleasure to meet him; he assured you that the pleasure was all his.  Drayton then told you that you could go ahead and wait for him in the truck, if you’d like.  He told you it would only take him a few minutes to lock up and then the two of you would be on your way.  Walking around to the side of the building, you found the old pickup and let yourself inside.  The minutes ticked on as you sat in the truck alone, wondering if everything was going okay.  You swore you could hear him talking to someone, but you didn’t recall anyone else being around.  Perhaps he was on the phone?  Maybe he was letting his family know he was on the way home?  After about ten minutes of waiting you wondered if you should check on him, but around that time he finally joined you and cranked up the truck.  The ride to Drayton’s house was bumpy and quiet.  Neither of you had much to say.  You couldn’t help but notice the man keep smiling to himself, as though he was laughing at something you had missed.

It wasn’t long before you pulled up to a quaint farm house.  All was quiet, save the constant drone of a generator.  Drayton parked the truck and hopped out the car like he could barely wait.  You got out the car yourself and followed closely behind the man.  “Not often we have guests for dinner,” he spoke. “My family’ll be delighted I brought you home.”

The house was far from the nicest you’ve ever entered, but you supposed there wasn’t much reason to have a nice house in a place like this.  Animal hides hung from the wall and everything in sight looked as though it had been crafted from animal bones.

“Hunting a big thing for your family?” you joked, making conversation with your host as you followed him through the house.

“Butchering is the family business, we take pride in having the most prime cuts of meat,” he explained.  “As you can see, nothing goes to waste here, no ma'am.”

Drayton turned a corner, and you did the same, but you were so caught up in the strange sense of interior design that you ran straight into something- rather, _someone_.

“Oh!” you gasped, caught off guard by the man.  He was massive, well over six foot in height and bulky. He was strangely dressed in a suit and tie that seemed far too formal for the occasion.  But that wasn’t the most surprising feature of his appearance at all.  It was his face, well, what was _on_ his face.  He wore a mask, the material seemed to be a leather of sorts that gave it the appearance of real skin.  Makeup was sloppily smeared across the lips, eyes, and cheeks.  Before you could take all of him in, the man suddenly grabbed you by your shoulders and held you up off the ground.  You shrieked in surprise.

“Put ‘er down, Bubba!  That there’s our dinner guest!” Drayton fussed, smacking the man.  He immediately put you down and mumbled what you only assume was an apology.

You looked around now, realizing you were in a dining room of sorts. The old worn table was huge and looked silly only set with five plates that were piled high with meat.  Antlers hung on the walls, the lamp in the corner was made out of bone, and was that a roadkill centerpiece?  Yeah.  Anyone could definitely tell that the house was inhabited by men and men alone.

“Now, where’s that fool brother of yours?”  Drayton asked.  The monster of a man shrugged.  “I thought I told him!  Oh well, if he ain’t here, he don’t eat.  Ain’t that right, Grandpa?”

It was then you noticed another person in the room.  Sitting in a wheelchair was a decrepit old man.  He didn’t respond, and if you didn’t see him blink every now and then, you would’ve assumed he was a corpse.  “Grandpa” had to be the oldest man you’d ever seen in your life.  Could he be over one hundred years old?  Drayton’s family certainly was an odd bunch, you couldn’t help but wonder about the one who was absent.

Feeling as though you were being watched, you glanced back over to the tallest man.  Sure enough, big brown eyes were peering down at you from behind that strange mask.  His gazed quickly averted once he realized he’d been spotted.  You stifled a giggle.  He was simple, almost childlike, and despite his size he was certainly more afraid of you than you were of him.  Although you couldn’t read his facial expression, you knew that your presence made him nervous.

“Don’t mind him,” said Drayton, noticing the exchange between Bubba and yourself.  The annoyance in his tone was obvious. “The boy ain’t right.  Leave her alone, Bubba.”

“Oh, he’s not bothering anyone, sir,” you said to Drayton, sensing that the big guy’s feelings were hurt. You decided to engage with him, let him know you didn’t mean him any harm. “Your makeup- it, uh, looks very nice, Bubba.  Did you do it yourself?”

The man nodded fervently and clapped his hands, wordlessly thanking you.

Drayton rolled his eyes. “Foods getting cold now, let’s eat.”

Bubba offered you the seat at the end of the table, directly opposite the patriarch.  Drayton was seated to the right of Grandpa.  After you sat down, Bubba attempted to take the seat to the right of Drayton, closer to your end of the table, but yet again, he was swatted by his elder.

“If Nubbins comes home and sees ya sitting in his spot, you know you won’t be able to sit ANYWHERE for a week,” Drayton fussed.  Bubba nodded, got up, and took what was seemingly his spot, to the left of Grandpa and opposite Drayton.  You were all alone at the end of your table, separated from the rest of the dinner party.

Without so much as a word, the men had already begun tearing into their plates.  You were slightly offended by the lack of manners from your host, but shrugged it off.  The family simply wasn’t used to the presence of a lady, you thought.  As you looked down at your plate, you saw no silverware.  You picked up a sausage, too shy to bother asking for a knife and a fork.  You gazed at the piece of meat wearily.  These men looked like they could barely take care of themselves, much less make a proper meal. A groan from your empty stomach snapped you out of your apprehensions.  After mentally saying grace, you closed your eyes and took a bite.  The meat had gone cold from sitting out for a while, despite this it was surprisingly flavorful.  Never before had you tasted pork so sweet!  After a few bites, you put the sausage down to try another cut of meat.  The next piece was as tender and juicy as the first.  Though slightly bitter in taste, it was not unpleasant in the slightest.

“Wow, you guys butchered this yourself?” you exclaimed with a mouth full of food- table manners be damned. “Compliments to the chef.”

“Prime cuts, girl.  Only the best,” Drayton beamed.

He was absolutely right.  Prime cuts made all the difference.  You eagerly sampled the rest of your rations.  Maybe it was just because of how hungry you were, but this had to be the best meat you’d ever had.  Before you even realized it, you had emptied your plate.

“Plenty more where that came from,” said the man with a chuckle, sliding the absent brother’s plate your way.

“Oh, thank you, but I couldn’t,” you replied.  Although tempting, you felt guilty that you made a pig of yourself. “I’ve had so much already.”

“Aw, c’mon.  No need to be shy.  It’ll just go to waste if you don’t have it,” Drayton insisted.  “Besides, nothin’ wrong with a gal that likes to eat.”

Blushing, you accepted his offering.  There’s no telling when you would ever have a meal like this again.  You were so engrossed that you failed to notice the men watching like hawks from the end of the table.  You made quick work of your second helping, nearly finishing off the whole thing before you simply couldn’t eat another bite.

“I’m absolutely stuffed!  That was incredible!  I really appreciate the meal, sir.  Is there any way I can repay you?” you asked.

“Don’t worry about it, girl, it’s my pleasure.  Hang tight for a second.  I’m going to check an’ see if we have any gas left.  Bubba, go take your grandpa upstairs.  You know it’s his bedtime.”

Bubba nodded and wheeled the old man away while Drayton exited the house.  A yawn escaped you as you waited for someone’s return.  It was late now, and you always felt like a nap after a huge meal.  You closed your eyes, hoping to rest them for just a minute before you were taken back to your car.  There was still a long drive ahead of you tonight, thanks to your little delay.  No sooner than your eyes shut, a soft rustling was heard from the next room.

Opening one eye, you looked over to confirm your suspicions.  Bubba was peeking at you from behind the door frame.  You smiled.  It was obvious he didn’t have much exposure to people outside his family and he was curious. “I’m not gonna bite, Bubba,” you softly spoke.  He was startled that you acknowledged him. Sitting up in the chair, you motioned him over.  He cautiously made his way over to you. “I'm sorry for bumping into you earlier and all.  I didn’t mean to scare you.”  A small smile was partially obscured by his mask, but it let you know he accepted your apology.  He pulled up a chair and joined you.  You didn’t bother with conversation, not having much to say.  He didn’t seem to mind.  The two of you silently enjoyed each other’s company until Drayton returned.  Like a trained watchdog, Bubba rose from his chair at attention.

“Bad news, honey,” said Drayton. He shook the empty gas can for effect. “Looks like we have to wait for the morning after all.  There’s a room upstairs you’re welcome to use for the night.”

“You’ve been so generous to me already, I feel guilty,” you admitted. “I really ought to go back to my car.  What if it gets towed?”

“I insist.  It just wouldn’t feel right, letting a pretty young thing fend for herself out there,” he said.  “You’re much safer staying with us tonight.  Your car’s gonna be fine, girl.  It’ll be there in the morning.”

You toyed with the hem of your shirt.  You were thankful, of course, but confused.  You didn’t understand why they were being so kind to you.  Regardless, you accepted his offer.  He led you upstairs to a humble room, furnished only with a bed and a small side table.

“It’s Bubba’s room, but he don’t sleep in here much. He works well into the night most nights,” Drayton explained. “Bed’s clean, of course.  Sleep tight, honey.  We’ll wake you up for breakfast.”

After once again thanking him and bidding the man goodnight, he disappeared, closing the door behind him.  You crawled in the bed, still fully clothed because you didn’t want to be indecent should anyone walk in.  You thought about how Drayton mentioned this being Bubba’s bedroom and laughed.  No wonder he rarely slept in here- the bed was a twin size.  Surely, he would be hanging off the edges!


	2. Chapter Two

Time passed slowly while you tried to doze off.  As tired as you were, you found yourself unable to sleep.  The cot was cozy enough, but for some reason you felt uncomfortable.  Something was off.  As you lay in silence, you could hear every tiny motion that happened in the old house- from the soft creaks of the floorboards to the squeaks of the door hinges.  The sound of the front door slamming and the angry whispers that followed caught you off guard.  You could only assume that the missing brother had made it home.  Typically, you’d mind your own business.  Eavesdropping was rude, but you felt compelled to listen in on what was happening downstairs.  You crept to the door, putting one ear against the old wood.  You faintly heard Drayton’s distinct voice, along with a young, unfamiliar voice that must have belonged to the “Nubbins” they spoke of earlier.  Drayton seemed to be fussing at him for “ruining everything.”  The brother responded by claiming that without him, nothing would get done around here.  They continued going back and forth, something about meat.  You just assumed he was shirking his work around the farm until the brother finally said “Alright, alright!  I’m here now, let’s just get it over with.  Where is she?”

“Upstairs.”

Your blood turned to ice in your veins.  Their hospitality was all a farce to lure you into a sense of security.  They were going to kill you.  You had to get away.  Reaching for the doorknob, you tried to twist it open, but it wouldn’t budge.  The bastards had locked you in.  You rushed back to the bed and glanced out the window, judging the jump.  You’d likely break your leg if you tried to escape out the window, which would defeat the purpose of trying to run.

Three distinct sets of footsteps grew louder as they trudged up the stairs.  You had to think fast; they’d be in for you soon.  You opened the window, then crawled up under the bed with the bedsheet.  Maybe if they thought you had used the sheet to climb out, they’d go outside to look for you and you’d have a chance to run.

As you heard the doorknob turn, you held your breath.  They entered the room quietly, like they expected to sneak up on you in your sleep.    The pounding of your heart was agonizingly loud.  Footsteps ended at the bed, two sets to be exact.  Tears welled in your eyes, fearing your location had been discovered.   The legs closest to you belonged to thinner men, Drayton and Nubbins presumably.  Looking across the floor, you saw the larger feet of Bubba standing at the door.

“Where’d the bitch go?” the voice of the brother asked.

“She’s gone!  She escaped!” Drayton exclaimed, stamping his feet in frustration.  “Dammit!  Leatherface, get out there!  She can’t have gone too far!”

Leatherface?  Is that what they called Bubba?  The nickname made sense, and it sent a chill up your spine.  His mask… it was actually human skin, wasn’t it?  Your stomach churned in disgust.  Lord have mercy, they had groomed the poor boy into a killer.  An engine roaring to life pulled you out of your thoughts of sympathy.  The sound was unmistakable… someone had started up a chainsaw.  Leatherface…  You heard his heavy footsteps rushing down the stairs.  The two others followed, and you heard the front door swing open three separate times.

They were all outside now, hunting for you.  Did you want to stay hidden under this bed until the morning when they left for work?  Or did you want to take your chances and try to escape?  You had to act; you didn’t know when they’d return.  Your body made the decision for you as it crawled out from under the bed and out the open door of the room.  You flew down the stairs, through the front door, and ran as fast as you could into the dense woods.  Your bare feet stung as fallen branches snapped underneath them.

“I heard somethin’ that way!” a voice called out in the distance.

They were onto you.  Gaining on you.  The more you ran into the wilderness, the louder the roar of the saw grew.  You had no idea which direction it was coming from- it sounded like it was everywhere at once, echoing through the night.  You tried to remain quiet but your breathing had become labored.  There was no mistaking, the chainsaw was behind you now.  You tried to run faster, if that was even possible.  Stricken with absolute terror, you didn’t bother watching where you were stepping anymore.  You had to get away, get out of the woods, and get help.  Your foot struck a root that had grown out of the ground, causing you to tumble forward and crash into a tree trunk.

‘Stupid, _stupid_ , **_stupid_**!’ you cursed yourself.  You didn’t have a chance to get up before Leatherface caught up to you.  He towered over you, his chainsaw buzzing closer, now mere inches away from your chest.  One wrong move and you would be split in half.  There was no escape now.  You collapsed in surrender, closing your eyes and embracing your destiny.  You sobbed one final prayer, asking your maker to make your death swift and painless so you could see him soon.  This was the end.

Suddenly, there was silence.

But… no pain?

You weren’t dead.

You realized the saw had been shut off.

You cracked open your eyes in disbelief, looking in the direction of your assailant.  Moonlight reflected off the blade as Leatherface lowered it to his side.  He turned away from you, shoulders trembling slightly.  You swore you could hear him whimpering.

“A-aren’t you going to kill me?” you managed to choke out.  While he wouldn’t look at you, his head shook no in response.  He was giving you a chance to get away.  Slowly, you picked yourself off the ground and took a step towards him.

“God bless you, Bubba,” you whispered.  You wrapped your arms around him briefly to express your gratitude before commencing to run.  Behind you, the chainsaw snarled to life again.  Leatherface cried out in rage as he struck a tree, seemingly putting on a show for his family and giving you a running start.

There was a considerable distance between you and Leatherface now.  A newfound hope arose in you.  Thanks to his kindness, you had faith in your escape.

Suddenly, a figure jumped out in front of you, stopping you and your faith in its tracks.

“Gotcha!” Nubbins called out while swinging at you.

You ducked and the metal rod he was wielding hit the tree.  You screamed and ran in the opposite direction, but you were nowhere near as fast as he was.  He managed to catch up with you, still swinging the piece of metal.  Everything went black the moment he struck the back of your head.

Groggy and disoriented, you regained consciousness thanks to the loud arguing of your captors.  You tried to move, but found yourself bound and gagged.  The back of your head pounded furiously as you surveyed your surroundings.  It looked much like a butcher shop, but instead of cattle or swine, you could see the distinctive bits and pieces of human bodies hanging on meat hooks.

The events of the night rushed back to you.  You knew where you were, somewhere in the house of Drayton and his demented family.  This must the family business- slaughtering humans.  This is how they got their prime meat.  You came to the revolting realization that the family had served you meat made of human flesh.  You heaved in your gags and sobbed, knowing you were surely going to hell when you finally died tonight for feasting on your fellow man.  You were unclean.  Would the Lord ever be able to forgive you for such a sin?  You grew sicker still when you came to the conclusion that your own corpse would be desecrated and cooked as well.

Leatherface was the first to notice you stirring.  He came to your side and shushed you, despite the fact that Drayton was still fussing at him for letting you escape.

“See!  What did I say?  He’s playing with his food!  Bubba’s in _looooove_!” Nubbins taunted.  “I saw them hugging in the woods!”

“Is that true, boy?  You done gone soft on us?  Has this- this _floozy_ done turned you against us?”

Leatherface frantically shook his head no. 

“Prove it!” Drayton commanded, thrusting the saw in his direction.  Leatherface held his hands up in protest, positioning himself between Drayton and you.  He glanced at you.  His eyes glistened with sympathy, but you could tell the man was torn.  He didn’t want to disappoint his brothers, but the kindness you showed him at dinner tonight had earned you a soft spot in his heart.  You were relieved he refused to hurt you, but feared that your death would be more painful at the hands of the other two.

“Looks like Bubba wants to keep her!” shouted the youngest.

Drayton responded, “Is this what it’s about?  You want a pet?”

Leatherface sheepishly shrugged.  He looked back at you, then to his oldest brother before nodding affirmatively.

“Hell, why didn’t ya just say so,” Drayton laughed.  “I reckon I can let you keep her as a pet, but we ain’t gonna take care of her.  She’s all your responsibility.  If I catch you slippin’, she’s dinner!”

“Ooh!  Ooh!  Maybe Bubba can _breed_ her!  That way she ain’t a complete waste!  I’m sure fresh meat would taste better anyway.”

“Breed ‘er?  Now, that ain’t too bad an idea.  Though, I don’t know if the boy has it in him.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.  You were just an animal to them.  Humans were just animals.  Pets.  Livestock.  If not for the gag in your mouth, you would have vomited.  There was something infinitely more sadistic about eating infants.  Tears poured down your face as you pleaded with the Lord that they would just kill you instead of defiling you and feeding on the bastard children.

“Hell, I wouldn’t mind doing it myself if he’s too stupid to stick it in,” Nubbins said, tousling your hair.  Nausea washed over you at his touch, causing you to sob harder.  Thankfully, Leatherface jerked him away by the wrist.  He growled possessively and shoved the smaller brother, who raised a fist at him only to be stopped by Drayton.

“This is what I mean!” the eldest exclaimed.  “We get a girl around here an’ y’all get aggressive and can’t keep it in your pants!  They’re evil!  Deceptive!  They’ll send us all to hell!”

If this were any other situation, you would laugh at the irony of his rant.  Tonight, though, all you could do was weep.  Why had God forsaken you?

“So, what are we gonna do with her, old man?”

“She knows too much.  If we let her get away, she’ll tattle.  And since the big baby here won’t let us eat her, I guess we’re stuck with the bitch,” said Drayton.  “Bubba, board up the window to your room so she don’t escape again.  Nubbins, take ‘er upstairs.  We’ll keep her in there until we figure out what to do with her.”

Leatherface obediently left to do as he was told.  His brother yanked you up by your hair, and forcefully led you out the basement and up the stairs to your prison.  He tossed you on the mattress once you entered the room.  Though you thrashed about to make things difficult for him, he still managed to tie you down to the bed frame.

“That oughta keep ya,” he said, hovering over you.  He tugged your gag down, and as you began to scream his filthy mouth crashed into yours to shut you up.  You felt grimy tongue snaked its way into your mouth despite your protests.  The sound of footsteps up the stairs caused him to break the kiss.  He shoved the gag in your mouth again before you had a chance to speak. “It’s a damn shame Bubba won’t let me taste ya.  You’re delicious.”  He managed to pull himself off of you just in time for the door to swing open.

Leatherface arrived at the door, holding several 2x4s, a bucket, and a hammer.  Nubbins scurried out the room like the vermin he was as his brother entered the room.  Leatherface got to work boarding up the window.  The room grew darker as each panel was nailed into place, obscuring the light of the moon.

When he was done, Leatherface sat beside you on the bed.  He held one finger over the mouth hole of his mask then pointed at you.  He untied the gag, and tossed it to the side.  You did not try to scream this time, knowing it would be a waste.  His large, calloused hands caressed your face.  Rough thumbs wiped the tears away from your cheeks.  Rising from the bed, he made his way to the door.

“Help me,” you pleaded hoarsely.  This caught his attention and he turned back to face you.  You continued, “Please, Bubba, let me go.”

Leatherface stared at you longingly, and for a moment you were foolish enough to believe he would have mercy on you. He merely stepped out, locking the door behind him.  You broke down, crying the hardest you ever cried in your entire life.  Fat tears streamed down your raw cheeks and pooled beside you on the sheets.  You thought about praying, but what good would it do anymore?  You were already in hell.  God had turned his back on you.

 


	3. Chapter Three

Leatherface gathered the empty breakfast dishes from the table, much like any other morning.  His brothers were already gone for the day and it was time to get started on his chores.  He dropped the dirty dishes into the sink.  He’d get to that eventually.  For now, there was a little extra food this morning and sat it to the side especially for you.  The pretty girl who loved his food last night, who loved it so much she ate two plates!  Leatherface couldn’t believe his brothers let him keep you.  He couldn’t wait to see how much you enjoyed breakfast.  Removing his dirty apron, he grabbed the plate and headed upstairs.  He was excited.  He remembered how much his mama loved breakfast in bed.  It was a special treat for nice ladies.

When he opened the door, you did not stir.  Were you still asleep?  He entered the room quietly, locking the door behind him just like his oldest brother had instructed.  Tip-toeing over to the edge of the bed, he placed the tray down on the table so he could wake you.  You were so peaceful like this, not kicking or screaming.  Your soft hair lay around your head on the pillow.  It reminded him of the old stain-glass windows from the church of his childhood.  Specifically, of the angels with their halos around their head.  His mama used to tell him bible stories of the angels.  She described them as beautiful, kind creatures.  That’s what you were, an angel, sent from God to bless him.  He could stand here and watch you sleep forever, but unfortunately, you had to wake up.  It was time to eat.  He nudged you softly.  Your eyes fluttered open, puffy and red from crying yourself to sleep.  Leatherface propped your head up so you could eat.  Sitting beside you on the bed, he grabbed a piece of bacon.  Bacon was his personal favorite, and he hoped you’d like it too.

Leatherface brought the bacon to your lips, but you shook your head no.  Maybe you didn’t like bacon?  He reached for a sausage instead, but you turned your nose up at that as well.  Why weren’t you eating?  You loved it last night.  He tried to feed it to you, but you squirmed and cried.  You were being very bad.  You were hurting his feelings.  When he hurt his brothers’ feelings, they had to punish him.  He offered you the piece of meat again, hoping he wouldn’t have to punish you.  Yet again you turned away, refusing the food.  He didn’t want to do it, but he was frustrated.  He was responsible.  If you didn’t eat, his older brother would make him get rid of you.  He didn’t want to do that either.  He was going to have to punish you, just like his brothers do to him.  He raised his hand, and struck you on the cheek.

You cried out in pain; the bright red handprint on your face stung.  It hurt him to see you upset, but when you’re bad you have to be punished.  Leatherface hated seeing you cry; your pretty face looked so ugly when you were like this.  He held up the bacon again.  This time, you accepted the offering.  Once you finished the bacon, he moved on to the grits, spoon-feeding you like a baby.  After the grits were done, you ate the biscuit, the eggs, and the sausage, all with no fuss.  You were a good girl after all.  An angel.  _His_ angel.

The plates were empty, breakfast was over.  Leatherface did not want to leave, but he had much work to do.  He patted you on the head before getting up and gathering the dirty dishes.  He’d see you again at dinnertime.

The rest of the day went much like any other for him, yet for you it was torment.  Your head ached terribly from last night.  You cried so much that tears would no longer fall.  There was nothing for you to do but lay there and wait.  But what exactly were you waiting for?  A window of opportunity to escape this hell?  For God, or even Leatherface, to take mercy on you and end your suffering?  Part of you wished they would’ve just slaughtered you last night.  You could have been breakfast this morning.  The thought that you had consumed someone who was in your same position repulsed you.  You wanted so badly to expel the evil from within, but the way you were positioned you knew you’d asphyxiate on your own vomit.  What a humiliating and terrifying way to go.  Besides, you were already humiliated enough at this point.  You supposed you’d just wait for someone to come along.  If your car was discovered and you never made it to your destination, someone would come for you eventually.  Right?

As the sun began to hide behind the trees, someone did come for you.  Though, he wasn’t exactly the help you had in mind.  Leatherface’s chores were done for the day and it was time to get ready for dinner.  His brothers would be home soon and he wanted to check on you.  It smelled terrible when he opened the door to the room.  What had happened?  He then noticed your clothes were soiled and the mattress was soaked.  No one had let you out to use the restroom and you wet yourself.  He couldn’t let you show up to dinner like this.  Leatherface had to clean you up.  He didn’t want his older brother thinking he was irresponsible!  He would have to give you a bath before dinner, just like he frequently did for Grandpa.

Leatherface motioned for you to stay put; he would be back soon...  Not that you could go anywhere anyway.  He rushed over to the bathroom and began filling the tub.  He rolled his sleeves up to the elbows so they would not get wet.  Returning to you, he removed your binds, picked you up off the bed, and threw you over his shoulder.  Across the hall he carried you, into the bathroom.  He stripped you of your dirty clothes and sat you in the steaming bath water.

Grabbing a washrag, Leatherface soaked it then lathered it up with a bar of soap.  Beginning with your face, he took great care to clean you up.   You were very dirty from playing around in the woods last night.  Dried tears had formed trails through the dirt that caked your cheeks. 

It was embarrassing to be in this position.  Never before had a man laid eyes on your nude body, much less lay hands on it.  You wanted to push him away, to tell him you could wash yourself, but you feared upsetting him.  As long as you complied, you figured you would not get hurt.  Thankfully, Leatherface was surprisingly gentle with you.  He could very easily overpower you and drown you.  Instead, he guided you to duck your head under the water so he could wash the twigs and leaves out of your hair. 

Once your hair was clean, Leatherface moved down to the rest of you.  Your skin was smooth, lacking all the scars and body hair that was present on his.  Your chest was so soft, curvy.  It was funny to wash you there.  As his hands cleaned further south, you shivered.  Was the water not hot enough?  It felt warm to him.  Too warm, even.  He felt hot and strange, seeing you like this, touching you.  He was not unfamiliar with the female body.  In fact, he was quite knowledgeable in all the cuts of meat that could be produced from a body like yours.  Yet, seeing a form so different from his own in a setting outside the kitchen was foreign.  He quickly grew embarrassed, grabbing a towel and handing it to you to dry yourself off.

Now, he faced a predicament.  The clothes you had on before would simply not do now that you were clean.  There had to be something around here for you to wear.  Down in the basement, of course! Sometimes, the meat he butchered had really nice clothes.  He would keep them if they weren’t destroyed.  His brother would use the clothing for art sometimes, and Leatherface got to keep the rest.  Still wrapped in the towel, he toted you downstairs.  He dug through the drawers until he found a blue dress of which he was fond.  It was too small to fit him, but it seemed just perfect for you.  Clumsily, he helped you get it on.  The dress was slightly big on you, but looked lovely regardless.  That was much better; he no longer felt the need to avert his eyes from you.  You looked so beautiful.  Still, something was missing.

_Makeup!_

Grabbing you by your arm, Leatherface led you to a bench in the corner of the room.  He picked you up and sat you on top.  Reaching under the bench, he pulled out a small box where he kept his cosmetics. Inside were various lipsticks, blush, and all sorts of stuff that he collected from the purses of those who had wandered his way.  He started by smearing rogue along your cheekbones.  He adored the look of the bright red powder on your cheeks.  Next, your eyes.  He generously applied the blue shadow to your lids.  Digging around in the box, he found mascara to put on your lashes.  This was so much fun!  He never had the chance to put his makeup on anyone but himself.  Lipstick was the finishing touch.  He typically used red, but decided that pink would look best on you.  Holding up an old, shattered mirror, he allowed you to see his masterpiece.

“It’s beautiful,” you said to him with a weak smile. “Thank you.”  You could see his eyes glisten as you thanked him.  You harbored a grudge against Leatherface for the majority of that day- angry that he could set you free but refused.  That hatred now faded; you simply couldn’t stay mad at him.  It wasn’t his fault.  He didn’t know any better.  He was only doing as he was told and he meant you no harm.  It hurt your heart to think of how lonely it could be out here for him.  Maybe this wasn’t a curse after all?  Maybe God had brought you here for a reason.  Maybe he needed you, or perhaps you needed him.

It was dark before his brothers returned home.  The table was already set and ready for supper.  In the middle of the table was the huge pot of chili, steaming hot from simmering all day.  You sat at the edge of the table, just like the night before.  This time was slightly different than before.  Drayton insisted you be tied to the chair so you wouldn't run off while everyone was eating.  Leatherface looked disappointed that you had to be tied up like this, but he did cherish the chance he had to serve you.  You couldn’t bring the spoon to your mouth while your arms were bound, so he gladly did that for you.  He even blew the hot soup off before bringing it to your lips.  With every spoonful you prayed the Lord would forgive you.  Surely he wouldn’t hold it against you if it was against your will.

Once dinner was over, you were led back upstairs for bed.  Drayton noticed the sheets were dirty and chewed his youngest brother out, before commanding him to get you some clean ones.  After the bed was made, they strapped you down to it, bid you goodnight, and locked the door.

Alone in the darkness, you could not get comfortable. Nor could your mind stop racing long enough to fall asleep.  After an eternity, the door creaked open and distracted you from your thoughts.  Who could be coming in?  What did they want?  It was then you noticed the bulky silhouette sneaking inside, locking the door behind him.

"Hi Bubba," you whispered, surprising him.  He must have assumed you were asleep.  Reaching the bed, he brought his finger to his lips.  You nodded, agreeing that you would keep quiet.  He began to untie you, throwing your binds to the side.  You sat up on the bed and gave him a hug, silently thanking him for freeing you.  You patted the space beside you, offering a seat to him. He chose to sit on the floor instead.  The two of you sat together in the dark, enjoying the comfortable silence much like the night before.  With him there, your mind finally quit racing.  Things didn't feel as scary.  You didn't feel so alone.  After a while, you heard soft snoring.  He had fallen asleep.  You took a spare sheet from the bed and draped it across him.  You planted a kiss on his cheek before curling up on the mattress behind him. 


	4. Chapter Four

Days turned to weeks.  No one had come searching for you; no one had found you.  You had given up on escape.  In fact, you didn’t bother plotting your get-away anymore.  The Sawyer’s watchdog rarely left your side, leaving you no window to run.  From the moment you woke in the morning to the time you fell asleep, Leatherface was there.  You soon realized it wasn’t so bad, being stuck with him.  It could’ve been worse- _much_ worse.  You could’ve been stuck with his crazy, hitchhiking brother.  That one lived for mutilation, of himself and those around him.  Thankfully, Leatherface never let Nubbins lay a finger on you.  Sure, Bubba was simple, but he was also kind of charming.  What kind of captor waited on their prey hand and foot?  Besides, it was kind of nice being treated like a queen.  This was your life.  You hated to admit, but your prison was starting to feel like home.

As weeks became months, you eventually earned your freedom.  No longer were you tied to chairs during dinner, or locked in your room at night.  His brothers had warmed up to you as well.  They even dared to refer to you as family and introduced you to other members.  Grandma, for instance, was that horrible rotten corpse smell that you passed every time you were upstairs.  Nubbins apparently had a twin that was fighting in Vietnam.  Drayton would even allow you to ride into town with him sometimes.  That was rare, though.  Most days you lounged around the house or helped Bubba with the chores.  (Despite his protests, of course.  He believed you shouldn’t have to lift a finger.  He finally gave in when you pestered him about how bored you felt).

While things were for the most part pleasant for you, others who wandered to the old farmhouse were much less fortunate.  Leatherface still wouldn’t let you enter that room under the stairs.  You didn’t mind not one bit.  It was hard enough to turn a blind eye to murder without seeing it in action.  You clung to the old clichés that ‘seeing is believing’ and ‘ignorance is bliss.’  If you didn’t see it, it was easier to pretend it wasn’t happening.  As days dragged on, you grew deaf to the sounds of the slaughter.  Screams and saws had become white noise.

Until one day, as you sat in the parlor listening to the radio you heard a loud rap at the door.  Bubba was doing whatever he did behind that sliding metal door.  You knew it would be trouble to attempt to get him.  Curious, you peeked out the window.  A slimy-looking, middle-aged man stood at the door clutching a briefcase.  He had a vacuum cleaner at his side.  You groaned; he was obviously a salesman.  If he was seen, you knew he’d be dead meat.  The Good Samaritan in you felt the need to warn him.  You might not be able to save everyone who meandered this way, but helping even one person might allow you to sleep better at night.  You snuck to the front door, hoping that Bubba was so busy he didn’t notice the man’s presence.

As you peered at the man from behind the screen door, he loudly introduced himself.  ”Howdy, ma’am!  Name’s Robert Sinclair, but you can call me Bobby.”  He tipped his hat to you.  “Sure gets dusty out here in the country.  I think I might have the product for you!  Have a moment to talk?”

“Not really,” you said.

For a moment, you could read the offense taken on his face.  He quickly gained his composure and resumed the sales pitch.  “Pshaw!  It will only take a minute, missy.  Promise I won’t keep you too long,” he insisted.  He let himself inside much to your dismay, dragging the vacuum behind him.  “Look at this place!  You could really use our free vacuum voucher!”  He shoved a pamphlet in your hand.

The brochure was crushed in your tightening fist.  “You’ve got to leave,” you advised.  “It’s not safe here.”

“I’ll say.  Where’s the man of the house?” said the salesman.  “I’m sure I could convince him that you need one of these fine machines.”

You grew frustrated.  You were trying to help him.  Couldn’t he see the human remains decorating the walls?  Did he _want_ to be Nubbins’ next arts and craft project?  “He’s not home,” you growled, still not wanting him to find out about Leatherface.  You didn’t consider how foolish this line was until the man had pinned you to the wall.

“Oh, that’s a pity,” he breathed.  He grabbed a lock of your hair and inhaled it.  “What kind of fool would leave a gal like you all alone out here?”

“Y-you’d best get out of here,” you warned, glancing over to the metal door.  You regretted trying to spare this man.  Now would be a perfect time for Bubba to walk out.

“Why’s that, sweetheart?  Your husband coming home from work soon?” he snickered.  A grimy hand snaked up your inner thigh.  After all the shit you’ve endured thus far, you’d be damned before some sleazy salesman took advantage of you.  You backhanded the man across the face before kneeing him between the legs.  While he recoiled, you ran to the metal door and began banging on it.

Leatherface stopped immediately when he heard you banging at the door.  Something was wrong.  He grabbed a mallet and rushed to your aide.  Swinging the door open, he saw red.  A stranger had entered your home, and he had you.  You were in trouble.  Without a second thought, he swung the perpetrator off of you with one swift motion.  Now that the stranger was away from you, he brought the hammer down on the man’s head.  The painful-sounding crunch of the man’s skull cracking was accompanied by a splatter of blood.

Warm drops of blood sprayed your face as Leatherface continued to bash your accoster.  You viewed the bludgeoning in morbid fascination; wide-eyed and repulsed yet unable to turn away.  The stranger was already dead at this point, but Leatherface continued to smash his skull until it was nothing more than a bloody pulp at the end of his neck.  It was captivating, _exhilarating_ , to see justice be served so swiftly.

The tool dropped into the crimson puddle that pooled under the corpse.  The salesman’s head was so badly disfigured that he was unrecognizable.  Leatherface scooped you up while babbling hysterically.  Tears were visible through the eyeholes of his mask.  He wiped the bloodstains from your face and held you to his chest.

“I’m okay, Bubba!” you said.  He was shaking, terrified.  You managed to coil your arms around him and pat his back.  “I’m okay now!  You saved me!  We’re fine now, Bubba.  Everything’s okay.”

His incoherent gibberish continued as he clutched you tight.  He was speaking to you, but you hadn’t the slightest idea what he was saying.  The tone of his voice was concerned, slightly desperate.

“You’re a good boy.  My hero.  My big strong hero.  I’m not going anywhere, darling,” you assured him.  This did nothing to calm him down.  You needed him to understand you.  You needed more than words to prove your point.

So you kissed him.

You had never kissed a man before.  You were unsure what came over you to do so at that moment.  All you were aware of is that it worked.  He didn’t fight back or push you away.  In fact, he melted into your embrace as you pressed you mouth against his.  It was strange kissing past another pair of lips to get to his, but you pushed that thought to the back of your mind.  When you broke away, he glanced away from you bashfully.  Placing a hand on his cheek, you drew his attention back to you.

“C’mon, Bubba.  Let’s clean this up.  I’m sure Drayton’ll be proud of you for getting him some more barbeque, huh?” you joked.  He responded with a jubilant nod.

That day left Leatherface feeling conflicted.  That weird feeling he felt when he was around you intensified.  Could it be love?  He was uncertain.  Though, he knew for a fact that he loved his family.  He loved his saws.  He loved sitting on the porch after dinner.  But this was different and unfamiliar.  It was a lot like love, but much stronger.  It was new and exciting, making him tingle all over.

With that strange feeling came newfound confidence.  Leatherface was bolder, always flirting with you in his own unique way.  You first noticed how chatty he had become around you.  It was near impossible to understand what he was saying, but you always listened and smiled.  After a while, you began picking up what he was attempting to say and were able to carry conversations.  He constantly presented with you with gifts.  They were small things, like dandelions or neat rocks and feathers he found.  Regardless, you cherished them and kept every one of them on the table beside your bed.  He turned out to be downright playful when the two of you were alone, constantly teasing and tickling you or reaching for your hands to hold and swing.  He also realized he liked kissing you.  A lot.  Now, he would not let a day go by without asking for a smooch from you.

Summer ultimately faded into fall.  The nights were getting cooler and the days shorter.  Gathering firewood was now a daily chore.  You watched from the old swing while Bubba cut up logs to store for winter.  He handled the saw with finesse.  It came so easy to him that it made carving wood look like child’s play.  It dawned on you that while this family was dependent on chainsaws for some reason, you never actually used one.  You cautiously approached him, and over the roar of the motor loudly declared “I wanna help.”

Leatherface shut off the saw and looked back at you.  He held a hand up to his ear.

“I said, I wanna help,” you repeated.  His head cocked to the side and he pointed to the saw.  You then added, “I never used one before.  I was wondering if you could show me.”

He looked at you for a moment, then down to the power tool before sitting it on the ground.  With a wide smile, he motioned you over.  He was delighted to show you his world.

Leatherface could start the saw up while holding it, but you were a beginner.  Beginners start it up from the ground.  The saw was still warm as it sat there.  You crouched over it, one hand on the handle.  Leatherface had your back, standing right behind to assist.  Hesitantly, your dominant hand reached for the pull cord.  After switching the saw to on, his hands joined yours.  You glanced back, awaiting approval to start it up.  He gave you the go ahead with a nod.  Together, you gave the cord a yank.  Two and you heard a pop.  Three pulls and the saw fired back to life.  The saw was heavy as you lifted it (with his help) and held it to the wood.  Who knew yardwork could be so much fun?  You giggled in excitement, relishing the raw power that you held in your hands. This was incredible.  It was easy to understand why the Sawyer's were so fond of saws.  You felt something hard against your rear, but were so distracted by the task at hand that you thought nothing of it initially.  It was when Bubba started rubbing it against you, softly panting in your ear, that you realized what was happening.

Gasping, you switched off the saw and wriggled out of his embrace.  Alarmed, Bubba defensively held the saw to his chest.  Glancing down, your eyes widened as you caught a glimpse of his erection.  “ _Bubba_!” you squeaked.  You were flustered, unsure of what to do now that you inadvertently caused this.  Without thinking, you found your hand reaching for it, tracing over his impressive manhood through his pants.  “Oh,” you choked. “My God.”  It was tempting, very tempting.  There was no refuting that you desired him as well.  But you couldn’t, not yet. “W-We can’t.”

Leatherface backed away from you with an angry huff.  He was frustrated, hurt, _aching_.  Most of all, he was confused.  He didn’t know what exactly he needed, or why he needed it from you.  However, he _did_ know that your brief touch seemed to help ease that ache he felt.  He wanted you to do it again.  He wanted you to make it go away.  Why were you denying him that?

“Bubba, please,” you said.  You knew he was upset.  You hoped he’d understand.  “I-It’s not that I don’t want to.  I do… But that’s for married folk.”

 Was that it?  He could fix that.  He grabbed you by the wrist and basically dragged you into the house.

You were alarmed and unsure of his intentions.  Surely, you knew he would not hurt you… you hoped.  Down to the basement he led you, where he kept all his things.  Setting the saw down on the bench, he pulled a beat-up toolbox from underneath.   It shimmered the moment he opened it thanks to all sorts of jewelry.  He dug around before finally pulling out a ring.

It was small, gold, and adorned with a humble diamond.  Out of all the jewelry he and his brothers had collected, this one was his favorite.  It brought back the memory of the one his mama always wore.  When he was young, she told him that his father had gave her the ring when they got married.  Rings meant marriage.  Marriage meant you could touch him again.

Grabbing your hand again, he slipped the ring on your finger.  You blushed, realizing now he assumed you were wed.

Frankly, this was good enough for you.  Sure, it may not be legally binding, but since when did laws apply out here?  You’d already accepted that you were never leaving this farm and that you were his, now and forever, ring or no ring.

Just like that.  You were now Mrs. Sawyer.

“Okay,” you said.  You took hold of both his hands.  “We can do this, but we gotta go upstairs, alright?”

His head bobbed in agreement.  Of course you could go upstairs.  In fact, you couldn’t get up there fast enough.  He swept you off your feet and brought you there himself.

You sat on the edge of the bed, instructing him to stand before you.  Trembling hands reached for his belt buckle and began to unfasten it.  Leatherface’s head tilted in apparent confusion.  He did not know what you were doing, but he trusted you.  You were going to make it go away.

Nervous didn’t begin to cover how you felt.  Primarily because you were a virgin and you had no idea what you were doing.  You had the talk before, sort of.  Your parents provided you with a very chaste, vague version of ‘the birds and the bees’ speech your freshman year.  More than that, this was your first time seeing a man unclothed.

As Bubba’s pants and boxers hung around his hips, all you could focus on was how the size of his member worried you.  Were they all this big?  Or was it proportional to his size?  It wasn’t that it was necessarily long, but good Lord, the _girth_.  You took it in your hands like a good wife.  Your fingers barely wrapped around the shaft.  There was no way that was going to fit in you.  You were quivering with excitement despite your apprehensions.  Based on what your somewhat looser friends mentioned, he was going to make you a _very_ happy woman.

You stroked it a few times, and earned a content groan from the man before you.  Beads of pre-cum trickled from the tip.  “Like it?” you asked.  He hummed in consent. “I have something better.”

Leatherface was visibly perplexed when your hands left his erection and began unbuttoning your shirt.  You painstakingly unfastened all the buttons, then slid the flannel off your shoulders and exposed your breasts.  You shimmied your jeans and panties down your legs and kicked them off.  He remembered back to the first time he bathed you, the hot feeling… was this what that was all about?

With a finger, you beckoned him to come to you.  He obliged and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Okay, Bubba, I need you to put it in here for me.”

His eyes then drifted to the area between your legs.  Before now, he never really noticed that your parts were different.  As he was told, he guided the tip of his cock to your entrance.  He paused, looking at you for approval.

“That’s right, push it in there.”

Your inner lips parted smoothly as he pushed his cock into you.  Biting your lip, you arched your back as he slowly, carefully entered you.  Your hands felt good, but this?  This felt amazing.  Much like a kiss but so much more intense.  You were so soft, so hot and wet.  He wanted more.  Almost too eager, he thrust in to the hilt.  When you moaned, he stopped, much to your dismay.  His head cocked to the side wondering if he had caused you pain.

“Shh, shh, Bubba, that’s good, very good,” you said, patting his face.   The stretch was slightly painful, but it was good. “Good boy, keep going.  Do it again.”

That encouragement was all it took for him to resume.  He repeated the motion.  And repeated it again.  And again.  Though he lacked grace or rhythm, he was doing his best to make you both feel good.  He liked this, whatever it was.  It felt good; he’d like to do it all the time with you.  He especially liked the sounds you made while doing this, and how pretty you looked from this view.  He never knew that his angel could possibly look more beautiful than before.  It was too easy to get lost in you.  He was overwhelmed- seeing you, hearing you, feeling you clench around him.  He was trembling as he bucked into you.  It was like so much energy had built up inside him, then in an instant- it released.  His whole body buzzed with pleasure as he came.

It was over, just like that.  Honestly, you wished it could’ve lasted a bit longer, but you figured the both of you would have plenty of time to figure it out.  You were astonished at how much cum gushed out of you when he withdrew his limp member.  Leatherface was already getting dressed again.

There were still a few hours before the others would return home.  “Hey… come lay with me,” you said.  There was no protest from him as he joined you on the small mattress.

As you lay in his arms, your fingers ghosted the skin of his mask.  For months you had wondered what lie underneath.

“Can… can I see you?”

His eyes widened at your request.  You wanted to see him.  You were so beautiful, and he did not think the same of himself.  He knew you would not hurt him, but so many had in the past.

“I-If you don’t want to, I understand-“

There was no need to say more, he already complied.  Shaky fingers reached behind his ears.  His head turned away from you as the mask was removed and he clutched it to his chest.  You placed your hands on either side of his face, guiding him to let you see.  There was a frightened, vulnerable look in his eyes.  He was embarrassed to be so exposed to you.  Your hands explored his features.  His nose appeared to have been broken in the past.  Purple scars of various shapes and sizes littered the skin.  To you, he was handsome despite the deformities.  Faint traces of his brothers were even visible; the resemblance to Drayton was obvious.  But his eyes stood out to you the most.  Those big, beautiful, brown eyes that followed you constantly from the moment you stepped foot into his life.

“You’re gorgeous,” you smiled, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.  You meant it.

But most importantly, he _knew_ you meant it.

He brought you in for a kiss, thrilled he finally had the courage to do so face to face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOO got damn its been a while huh guys. sorry for taking so long between chapters, life's been pretty shitty lately. however, i DID get a promotion recently and surprisingly i now have a lot of downtime to write on the job. :D thanks for being patient with me and i appreciate all the kudos and comments even if i've been too lazy to respond to them individually!!! they mean the world to me! hopefully the next chapter will be out pretty soon!

You clung to the toilet heaving up last night’s supper. This was a common occurrence over the past few weeks. You wanted to place the blame on the meat that you were being fed, yet in the back of your mind you knew that wasn’t the truth. The fact that you were a cannibal now barely phased you. You weren’t sick from the meat, despite how much you wished that were the case. Unfortunately, it was time you came to terms with a harsh reality- you were with child.

Almost two months had passed since your union with Bubba.  Although, that first time was nowhere near the last. He had not been able to get enough of you since the day of your makeshift marriage. It would not be an exaggeration to claim the two of you fucked like rabbits whenever you were alone. Without a doctor, you had no way of knowing when you conceived.  Hell, Bubba could have knocked you up the first time the two of you slept together judging by your symptoms.

A gentle knock on the door stirred you from your thoughts, followed by the door creaking open. Lifting your head out of the commode you glanced back at your concerned husband.  It was hard to keep anything a secret from Bubba. He worried about how sick you had been recently.  Times like these, you were grateful for his lack of exposure to the opposite sex.

“I’m okay,” you muttered, offering a weak smile.  “After all these years, my body still ain’t used to the change in seasons.  Happens every fall like clockwork.”

It was easy for you to convince him that it was the shift in weather that had you feeling like this.  He took your every word as truth.  In his eyes, he had no reason to believe otherwise.  Bubba wasn’t familiar with the concept of morning sickness, so it didn’t make a difference.  It pained you to take advantage of his trust like this, but it was for the best.  He just nodded sympathetically and went on his way.

 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy dealing with the rest of the Sawyers as your pregnancy progressed.  Sure, your own paranoia played a huge part- but, Drayton was far more astute than he let on.  Often, you caught him glaring at the ring on your finger during meals.  He was also fond of making jokes about how “close you an’ Bubba have gotten.”  There was no way of knowing for sure how much he knew about your relationship.  He could have come to his own conclusions, or his brother could have confided in him.  Drayton never had to speak a word of confirmation.  It didn’t matter.  You could tell that he recognized you were sleeping around with his brother.  Even worse, he had the mental capacity of knowing the result of that.  His constant knowing grin was more than enough to make your blood run cold. As you lay awake at night, you couldn’t get that look of his out of your head.  It burned in your memory- it might as well be branded on the back of your eyelids.  You saw it every time you closed your eyes.  Drayton knew enough, and you knew you needed to get rid of the baby before he got to it.

 

You could not allow the infant to be born.  It was murder, of course, but at this point you lost count of how many sins you committed on a daily basis.  You to spare the child from whatever horrors would await her outside the womb.  If that was murder, so be it.  A fair God would understand, even turn a blind eye while you did.  In moments like these, doubts crept from the dark corners of your mind.

 _‘God wouldn’t need to cover his eyes_.  _He turned his back months ago.’_

Those wicked thoughts were struck down as soon as they surfaced, but still it frightened you how bitter you’d become.  That was just another thing to add to list you needed to beg forgiveness over.

Once you set your mind on it, you realized there was no safe way for you to go about it.  However, that didn’t stop you from trying.  You had heard whispers of women using coat-hangers to rid themselves of unwanted pregnancies.  You had no idea how that would work and it sounded incredibly painful.  Additionally, should you botch it and someone find you, you’d be in more trouble than you could even imagine.  The idea of drinking it to death came to you.  Upon searching the cabinets for booze, you were surprised that the Sawyers didn’t have even a single jar of moonshine hiding in the cupboards.  You asked Bubba for a drink to no avail.  You tried to explain alcohol to him after you turned down the glass of water he offered you.  He still didn’t seem to have the slightest idea what you were talking about.  You attempted to be extra helpful when it came to chores around the house.  You focused on tasks that caused you to over-exert yourself.  That proved to be more difficult that you anticipated thanks to how protective Bubba was of you.  He hated you doing heavy lifting or other strenuous labor around the yard.  That’s what he was for, and he was getting frustrated by your efforts. 

Days passed.  There were still no signs of bleeding despite your efforts.  Drayton seemed to be taunting you in little ways that his family wouldn’t pick up on.  Harmless ways, like piling your plate up higher than normal.  It was a quiet afternoon when you found yourself standing at the top of the stairs.  Resorting to this was your last option, the option you wish you didn’t have to choose. You were desperate.  You faced away from the steps.  Looking down would only cause you to chicken out.  Oh, this was going to hurt like hell, but it was now or never.  With a shaky breath, you stepped back, plunging down the stairs before everything went black.

When you came to, you were tucked in your bed.  Searing pain coursed through your body.  You felt bruises on parts of you that you didn’t even realize existed.  Most noticeable, however, was that your right hand felt like it was in a vice.  Your vision was bleary, but you were able to make out

“Bubba… My hand,” you whispered.  He chirped ecstatically, loosening his death grip on your hand to stroke your cheek.  You offered him a weak smile, grateful to have him watching over you.

“Some fall there, girl,” said Drayton, snapping your attention away.  Your stomach churned.  He was the last one you wanted to see right now.  He was the reason you threw yourself down in the first place. “Y’had him worried half to death.  What happened?”

“I-I don’t know.  I must’ve I missed a step heading up and fell all the way back down,” you lied.

“That so?  Well, I suppose you should be more careful.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you retorted.  If you could get up, you wouldn’t mind pushing him down the stairs.  Drayton simply chuckled as he left the room.

With Drayton gone, Bubba kissed your hand and muttered frantically.

“Shhh, I’m okay, honey.  It’s okay,” you said, patting his hand.  “I’ll be good as new in a few days.  I just need to rest a little.”

At the moment, he seemed more hurt than you.  You despised yourself for doing this and causing him to worry.  Again, you told yourself it was for the best.  The best for all three of you.


End file.
